


Waiting for the Thaw

by Deannie



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1996-10-19
Updated: 1996-10-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 00:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder's thoughts after Teliko.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting for the Thaw

"Mulder?"

He could hear her... He could see her... The loudest sound he could make was a little groan in the back of his throat...

He wanted to reassure her--wanted to reassure _himself..._

But all he could do was lie there, frozen.

"Mulder," she said, looking straight into his eyes, searching for some sort of response from him. "The ambulance is on its way... You'll be okay."

God, he hoped so. Scully was the one person in the world he could count on to tell him the truth--but her assurance didn't sound so convincing.

No. She'd said that the seeds couldn't contain enough... whatever-it-was... to kill a man. It was the Teliko that killed them, with a swift stab of his stick straight into the pituitary gland. Still, the idea of being frozen here, of lying helpless as Aboah had leapt down to attack her...

He heard sirens.

Mulder decided very early on in the EMTs' process of moving him that there could be nothing worse than being frozen. Sometime between being moved onto the gurney and being rolled into the ambulance, he managed to close his eyes, vowing not to open them until he was safe again, released from this strange, instant hell.

That was the thing that he knew he'd remember for the rest of his life. The immediacy of the poison. One minute he'd been hunting, searching for yet another killer, and the next...

 

He'd barely felt himself hit the grated floor, hadn't been able to realize the bruises that he must have acquired being pulled through those ducts. All he'd been able to focus on was the strange feeling of no-feeling. The lack of input.

"Mulder, we're almost there."

Scully had been keeping up a running commentary since she'd found him. "It's okay, Mulder," "I'm here," "You'll be all right." But he'd heard the supressed fear in her voice when she'd turned to the arriving EMTs.

"It's some kind of cortical depressant... A nightshade poison... We have to make sure we can keep him stabilized until..."

Until he came out of it on his own. Until he was finally able to move, to speak, to turn his head and smile at the partner he knew would be waiting at his bedside when he woke.

 _If_ he ever slept.

He had an irrational fear that if he stayed like this, with his eyes closed, for long enough, he'd simply stop feeling anything. He'd just drift away...

"We've got a poison case." The sharp, clear voice of the ambulance driver made him snap his eyes open again, looking around in controlled panic until his gaze lit on his partner. "We need a full toxicology run as soon as we get in... Partner says it's a Nightshade derivative... No... We have him stabilized..."

He was stunned to realize, suddenly, that Scully had been running a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes again and took as deep a breath as his condition allowed.

He hadn't felt a thing.

* * *

The sounds of the emergency room--structured chaos--were more than he could bear at the moment, and he would have clapped his hands to his ears if he could have.

"It's okay, Mulder." She must have seen his fear reflected in his eyes. "You'll be all right."

She smiled down at him, no more reassuring than she had been the last time, and turned suddenly to meet the shift nurse. At least, she sounded like she must have been the shift nurse--Mulder couldn't turn his head to see.

A tall, dark-haired woman loomed over him suddenly, brandishing a penlight, flashing it into his eyes with painful intensity. The ER crew scurried around him, moving his body to another table, probing, questing...

And all the time, he tried to scream at them, to make himself heard. I'm here! I'm not some dead body! I'm awake! I'm _here!_

Finally, the doctor turned to Scully, who had been standing silently by, just within Mulder's line of sight.

"There doesn't seem to be any immediate threat, Agent Scully. He's breathing normally, and his vitals are strong." She turned back, staring at Mulder, looking through him, as if a body at rest meant a mind departed. "We'll admit him, keep tabs on his condition... Do you have any idea how long the drug takes to wear off?"

Mulder watched his partner as she shook her head in frustration. "No. Agent Mulder is the only... survivor we've had in this series of attacks."

The doctor nodded dispassionately, and Mulder wished he could speak--if only to compliment her on her sterling bedside manner. "We'll take him up to his room after we run a couple more tests."

Mulder was suddenly glad of his frozen state, as the doctor brought out a needle. He closed his eyes, able, for once, to pretend that the needle hadn't pierced _his_ flesh, that they weren't taking blood from _his_ body. His eyes blinked open again as he heard the telltale squeak of the gurney's wheels.

Again, when the doctor spoke, it wasn't to him. "We need to take him down for a couple of scans, Agent Scully." Mulder watched Scully nod, her eyes locked comfortingly with his. "I'll have a nurse show you up to his room. You can wait for him there."

* * *

"Hey, partner."

Scully's voice was a comfort--moreso because she was actually talking to _him._ He looked up at her, only now noticing the soot that covered her face--that probably covered his own face, too. Her smile now was more relaxed, as she watched a pair of nurses hooking him up to the monitors that would record his condition.

"Your toxicological is a mess," Scully said playfully, standing by the bedside, well in view. "But, once again, you'll live."

He wanted to throw out a wisecrack at that one. "Once more, Fox Mulder has cheated death" would have been nice, if delivered with just the right sarcastic tone. Maybe "Disappointed?" would have worked as well...

Mulder closed his eyes again, trying to feel something, to move something...

Waiting for the thaw.

"Why don't you get some sleep?"

He wondered idly if she was running a hand through his hair again. Like his mom used to do when he was sick. He remembered the discussion they'd had on their last case; Scully's maternal feelings, and his own surprise at seeing her in that light for the first time. "I never saw you as a mother before."

Well, she didn't really need any kids of her own--not with Fox Mulder around. He laughed at himself mentally. One more bedside vigil for Scully...

* * *

Perhaps he dozed off, perhaps it was just sensory deprivation, curbing his ability to gauge the passage of time, but when Mulder opened his eyes again, sunlight streamed through the window beside him. With a defeated air, he tried to move his head, shocked when it rotated--a bit stiffly--to allow him a view of Scully sitting quietly beside the bed, engrossed in a file before her.

Heartened, he tried using his voice as well. It was soft, but he reveled in the feeling of it.

"Hey."

Scully flashed a smile, standing, allowing him the joy of moving his head again so that he could look up into her face. He was sore, he realized with a kind of wonder. It felt like he had run a marathon--and he'd never be as appreciative of pain again.

"How are you feeling?"

He shrugged, loving the feel of his aching muscles as they whined in protest. "Sore... It's a definite improvement on last night."

Her smile widened, turning slightly sarcastic. "Night before last."

He just looked at her for a moment, begging an explanation with his eyes.

"You've been asleep for more than thirty hours," she replied simply. "It probably has something to do with the way the drug interfered with your system."

Mulder digested that quietly. "Aboah?"

At that, Scully sighed, resuming her seat. "Gunshot wound was superficial." She shrugged. "He's losing ground quickly. They're trying to introduce a synthetic hormone series, but I don't know how much longer he'll last."

He grinned winningly at her, lightening the mood. "What about me?"

Scully smirked. "Oh, you'll be around to plague the Great Conspiracy for years yet."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he stated blithely, groaning as he tried to sit up.

"Take it easy," Scully warned, standing again to grab for the bed controls, raising the head to a comfortable level. "You'll probably be sore for a while. That dart really did a number on your system."

"It's okay," he whispered, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling the bliss of a pain he had always found confining. "I'd take pain over..."

Scully watched him carefully for a moment as he trailed off, his eyes darkening in memory. "Are you okay?"

He reached out a hand, grasping the one that she offered, and squeezing it gently.

"I am now."

* * *

_The End_


End file.
